. "I am going to bed. But first I want you
to step across to the sergeant of the guard with this letter for the
Commissary-General. Tell him that it is of the utmost importance, and
ask him to arrange to have it taken into Lisbon first thing in the
morning."

Mullins bowed, venerable as an archdeacon in aspect and bearing, as he
received the letter from his master: "Certainly, Sir Terence."

As he departed Sir Terence turned and slowly paced back to his desk,
leaving the door open. His eyes had narrowed; there was a cruel, an
almost evil smile on his lips. Of the generous, good-humoured nature
imprinted upon his face every sign had vanished. His countenance was a
mask of ferocity restrained by intelligence, cold and calculating.

Oh, he would pay the score that lay between himself and those two who
had betrayed him. They should receive treachery for treachery, mockery
for mockery, and for dishonour death. They had deemed him an old fool!
What was the expression that Samoval had used--Pantaloon in the comedy?
Well, well! He had been Pantaloon in the comedy so far. But now they
should find him Pantaloon in the tragedy--nay, not Pantaloon at all,
but Polichinelle, the sinister jester, the cynical clown, who laughs in
murdering. And in anguished silence should they bear the punishment he
would mete out to them, or else in no less anguished speech themselves
proclaim their own dastardy to the world.

His wife he beheld now in a new light. It was out of vanity and greed
that she had married him, because of the position in the world that he
could give her. Having done so, at least she might have kept faith; she
might have been honest, and abided by the bargain. If she had not done
so, it was because honesty was beyond her shallow nature. He should have
seen before what he now saw so clearly. He should have known her for
a lovely, empty husk; a silly, fluttering butterfly; a toy; a thing of
vanities, emotions, and nothing else.

Thus Sir Terence, cursing the day when he had mated with a fool. Thus
Sir Terence whilst he stood there waiting for the outcry from Mullins
that should proclaim the discovery of the body, and afford him a pretext
for having the house searched for the slayer. Nor had he long to wait.

"Sir Terence! Sir Terence! For God's sake, Sir Terence!" he heard the
voice of his old servant. Came the loud crash of the door thrust back
until it struck the wall and quick steps along the passage.

Sir Terence ste